


Gold

by RinzlersGhost



Series: Holiday Prompt Fics [4]
Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:27:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28340148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RinzlersGhost/pseuds/RinzlersGhost
Summary: Prompt 10 is Gold. GenderNeutral Reader is caught staring at Geralt while thinking about better days. Jaskier intervenes in typical bard fashion
Series: Holiday Prompt Fics [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2075340
Kudos: 1





	Gold

Gold ran the world you lived in. The highest honor was a sachet of gold coin or a medal forged from gold, pressed or carved into intricate shapes.

You had once lived in a kingdom. You had once seen the liquid gold that ran the world. But that gold was worthless to you. The only gold you cared about now was the golden hue of a witcher's eyes. You had met Geralt of Rivia you supposed, as much as anyone else had-- through the bard Jaskier. You found Geralt to be a man of a few words, good talents, but very few words other than that which the bard managed to charm out of him.

He was an exceptional witcher, and you never passed up on your chance to make sure you were working in the tavern whenever he was in town. Geralt, you thought, represented freedom. A freedom that most people would never know or want. You wanted that freedom but where was it to be found if not seized by your own hands? You weren’t particularly special. You weren’t a soldier or a brewcrafter. You had no skills with magic or healing. You knew how to craft blades and armor though, which made you valuable inside and outside of a kingdom. Right now, people had no use for you, for war was not nigh.

“You’re not very subtle.” Jaskier murmured.

“What?” You asked, shaking yourself from your thoughts.

“You’ve been staring at  _ him _ all evening.” Jaskier replied.

“Oh fuck, have I?” You asked. Yes, it was your day off and you had come to the tavern anyways, for an ale and for a sight of the witcher. You hadn’t even realized you’d been staring in that direction until Jaskier said something, and why yes, you were staring intently at Geralt. Gold was the color of the witcher’s eyes; liquid gold like the smithing shops once used to pour.

“You should talk to him.” Jaskier nudged you.

“Talk? To the witcher? Jask... from what you tell me, he doesn’t talk much.” You replied. Jaskier nudged you up and in the witcher’s direction.

“I have a fantastic idea that involves ale.” Jaskier planted you at the other side of the table that the witcher was sitting at.

“Hm.” Well, there went any hope of that. Your eyes immediately locked down onto the table, staring at the leather spiked armor that adorned him. You supposed that leather would be easier to move in, easier to fight monsters in, though it provided very little actual protection. “Do you think he’ll ever come back with the ale or was this just a ploy?” Geralt asked.

“It’s Jaskier. He does what he wants with little care for the consequences.” You replied.

“Spoken like someone who has had to pull him out of messes.”

“I have pulled him from a few... but those days are long gone. Seems he’s put me in one of my own.” You murmured.

“Hm.” You finally dared to glance up to catch the hint of the smile on the witcher’s face.

“Did you buy your sword... or was it made for you?” You finally asked.

“You’ve spent the majority of the evening staring at me and you’re going to ask about my sword?” Geralt asked.

“Weapons are valuable to witchers. Some have different meanings than others though. Was it won in battle? Was it a gift? Or was it the first sword you’d ever had?”

“It is just a sword.”

“Spoken like a man who only wields it.”

“My horse is more valuable than it is.” Geralt replied.

“May I?” You asked. Geralt raised an eyebrow but drew his sword, setting it down on the table. “A true longsword. A blade befitting a witcher.” You murmured, testing the balance. “Balanced as it should be. A beautiful weapon for a beautiful man.” 

“Hm. Bold.” Geralt murmured. You chuckled softly.

“Once upon a time, I was a blacksmith. Now I wait tables in this tavern. You’re the most exciting thing to come to this town.” You replied. “Probably the prettiest too.”

“I’m a witcher.” 

“Does that make the truth less true?” You asked, meeting his eyes, offering him back his sword.

“Hm.” Geralt sheathed his sword, and you loved every second of the sound of the sword grating against the sheath until the sword hilted itself with a sharp metallic sound. It reminded you of better days. Geralt reminded you of better days.


End file.
